Hard Wearing
by ChelleyBean
Summary: Old, familiar faces can appear at the most convenient times. An Andromeda/Heroes Crossover
1. Chapter 1

_It's official: I hate bunnies. Plot bunnies, to be exact. They hop around inside my brain and refuse to give me any rest, interfering with trying to finish established story lines because they won't let me concentrate on them. After days of fruitless searching for an Andromeda/Heroes crossover and finding none, this rabid bit of fur just won't shut up! I'm sooooo sorry but the only way to get it out of my mind is to put it into yours._

_As usual, I own nothing. Andromeda and Heroes are both the property of people far cooler and way more talented than I. Enjoy._

_

* * *

_The first breath drawn into empty lungs burns white hot. Most people don't have to experience the discomfort outside of their first breath of true air the day they are born. As he drew in that first, shuddering breath, Gaheris could appreciate the ignorance gained after that first moment was past.

His eyes protested at the sudden return of light as he squinted upwards. A large shadow moved into his field of view, blocking out the painful brightness. He blinked again and found himself looking up at Dylan, a force lance pointed at his chest.

Not that he could blame him. He had just committed treason. "You won, Dylan." He could not keep the smile from his lips. "Excellent work."

"That's so Nietzschean of you." And his point? "I would just shoot you again, but it turns out that I need you."

"I can't undo the sabotage, Dylan. I'm sorry, but this is the best course of action for everyone. The Commonwealth no longer has the strength needed to lead. It's time my people…"

"Drop it." It was almost a snarl. "We're in deeper than that."

That gave him pause. Rhade tilted his head and listened for the sounds of battle against the ship's hull… and found none. "What do you mean? Why is it so quiet? The battle can't be over yet."

Dylan gave a bitter laugh. "Actually, the battle's been over for a long time."

Rhade's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, we've been stuck on the event horizon of a black hole, frozen in time for three hundred years."

"That's not possible." It had to be a trick. Andromeda picked that moment to chime in.

"Apparently it is. We have been pulled out of the event horizon by what looks to be a cargo vessel. And what's more, we have been boarded."

"Boarded?"

Dylan's force lance was still aimed at his chest. "Which is why I'm not killing you." He raised the weapon up and away from him. "Not yet, anyway. Can you at least be trusted to help me defend the ship?"

Hunt did not look as though he was bluffing, and Rhade had known him long enough to read the captain fairly well. If they had been frozen in time for 300 years or more and they were being boarded, then his personal survival would most likely require that he support Dylan in defense of the ship. "I am with you, Captain." He knew he had lost the right to address him as 'Dylan' after his betrayal.

Hunt stepped back to grant him room to stand while Andromeda brought the visual up onto her main screen. The relatively recent act of treason was pushed aside as the two men worked together to protect their ship. Using cunning and skill they gained the upper hand. The Magog was surprisingly easy, and although it took all of Rhade's self-will not to kill the beast on sight, it turned out to be a wise move to spare its life. The other Nietzschean and the purple creature proved to be the more difficult to subdue.

That they almost got pulled into the black hole again hadn't made things any easier, but again they survived.

Their thieves-turned-guests were secured away before Gaheris found himself alone with only Dylan and Andromeda again. It was not a completely comfortable setting, but one that was necessary.

"What do I do with you, Rhade? You were supposed to be my best man at my wedding, but that's a dream of the past. Sarah is long since dead, as are your wives and children." The reminder stung him, but was not something that could be denied. "What are we to one another now, Rhade?"

The pain of his betrayal weighed heavily on him as well. He had sided with his people and the result had been disastrous. "I am a Nietzschean, Dylan. We are geared towards survival and cunning. At the time the right decision seemed clear; the Commonwealth had erred in making a treaty with the Magog. It seemed… clear that it was time for new leadership, and it is our way to take things by force."

Hunt's fists were on the surface of his desk, as though the tall human was just barely holding back from violence. "And now?"

Gaheris inhaled deeply. "If our… guests are to be believed, things did not happen as we envisioned when we plotted our uprising. It would seem that the Nietzschean drive to prove our superiority has lead to infighting amongst the prides. It has destroyed any chance at a unified and strong front, thus leaving the galaxy to fall into chaos and disarray."

Dylan looked at him as if waiting for something else. Rhade swallowed his pride. "I was… wrong." The word seemed so inadequate. "My actions have cost us both our families as well as our world. I do not know if I can ever make it up to you, and I understand if you can never trust me again, but I know with everything that is in me that the right choice, the _correct_ choice for me is to spend my life trying to put things right."

The silence in the room was almost deafening. Dylan's eyes seemed to be boring into his very soul, but Gaheris refused to look away first. To look away first would be a sign of weakness. Finally, after a small eternity, the captain nodded. "I believe you. But I warn you, Rhade, betray me again and you will not live to talk me out of killing you a second time."

Understandable. Of course, a Nietzschean would have just killed him now. One of the benefits to having Dylan in charge. "I will not let you down. Not again."

"Good." Hunt flexed his shoulders and turned away. Something in Rhade relaxed. If Dylan was willing to present his back to him, then he at least trusted him not to attack. "There's one more thing I need to know, Rhade."

"Anything."

"I shot you in the gut, at close range." Hunt turned back around even as ice settled into the pit of Rhade's stomach. He hadn't had time to consider the possible outcome of his timely resurrection. "Andromeda confirms that you were dead. Care to tell me how you're standing here, now?"

He could lie, of course, but that would further damage their already shaky truce. "Would you accept that it nothing harmful to you?"

"No, not given recent events."

"I thought not." Gaheris took a breath. "Then there is one good thing about the Commonwealth being gone; she cannot be charged with desertion. That would break the promise I made."

"'She' who?"

Rhade hesitated for a moment before answering. "Lieutenant Clarice Benoit."

* * *

"You know, I never asked you to get yourself on this ship."

"Well, I apologize, but the idea of you playing games on a Nietzschean warship didn't exactly leave me with a comfortable feeling in my belly."

"I am perfectly capable of handling a pack of Nietzscheans."

"Oh, sure, because you did such a stellar job the last time." Charlie held up one arm to display the line of bone blades in illustration. "Besides, people are starting to talk."

"Hand me that wrench. And what people?"

Charlie handed her the tool. "Voices here and there. Cuchulain has made a name for himself as a ship's captain. The rumors are that he is certain to make Fleet Marshall. There are those who seek to discredit him and cast aspersions on his character."

A frown marred her brow. "So they're focusing on his kludge engineer?"

"The kludge he keeps as his _chief_ engineer over his fellow Nietzscheans. People know that he stole you from Genghis Galahad, and they're starting to put together your time with Genghis and your time serving under Cuchulain and starting to wonder how a mere kludge who has supposedly been suffering a life of hard labor for _fourteen _years still looks as young and fresh as the day she first stepped aboard ship."

She sighed. "Damn. I was banking on no one paying attention to the non-mod." She gave him an irritated look that was more aimed towards her own lack of vision than his words. "Ideas?"

"Get out fast."

"Oh, that's all? No problem there. It's not like my every step isn't monitored while planet side to prevent anyone from stealing me away again. I mean do you have a plan?"

They fell silent as footsteps neared the doorway leading to the corridor, holding quiet until whoever it was passed by. "Of course we have a plan."

"We?"

Charles smirked. "I contacted Erik." She rolled her eyes and he nudged her shoulder in response. "An explosion resulting in a hull breach on one of the outer walls should suffice. You float away with the debris and Erik scoops you up. Easy."

"Except it will kill me."

"Not permanently."

"Dead is dead."

"Not for you." He gave her one of his most impish smiles. "He's going to rendezvous with us in the next system."

"We reach the next system in under eighteen hours." He shrugged. "You ever hear of a little thing called 'prior notice'?"

"There were scheduling conflicts. We had to work fast. He's got something for you once you're on his ship."

The engineer shook her head in disbelief. "You boys will be the death of me, yet."

Charles grinned and gave her a very un-Nietzschean wink. "Highly unlikely."

* * *

"Benoit?"

Andromeda chimed in. "Clarice Benoit was already stationed aboard as part of Engineering when you took over command, Dylan. Unblemished record. She was described by her superiors as humble. She declined a commendation for valor on two occasions, preferring instead to illuminate the deeds of others."

A light went off in Dylan's memory. "As I recall, you didn't like that about her, Rhade."

"It showed a lack of ambition."

"And yet you mention charges of desertion? Didn't she die while on mission?"

"Confirmed." The holographic image of Andromeda flickered into being. "She went planet side with a small group lead by Commander Rhade to investigate a potential terrorist outpost. There was an explosion that lead to a rockslide. Four of the team members were killed. Two made it back to the base site. Commander Rhade was trapped inside a subterranean cave system for seventy-eight hours before he was found. Benoit was listed among the dead. All that was found of her was her an arm. It was determined that scavengers drug off the rest of the body."

Gaheris remembered that day all too well. "She grew another." Dylan looked at him blankly. "She grew another arm. She called it rapid cellular regeneration. Her body could replace lost appendages. According to her, even organs if need be."

Dylan frowned. "I'm not following you."

"Clarice Benoit was trapped in the cave system with me. She was suffering from multiple factures and crush injuries as well as a traumatic amputation. I was about to offer to end her suffering until I noticed that her body was healing itself at an accelerated pace. I literally watched as her wounds sealed and her body grew a new arm. The entire process took less than five minutes."

"How is that possible?"

Good question. "A quirk in her DNA. A mutation in her genetic makeup. Her parents had mutations of their own, though not the same as hers."

"And how do you know that?"

Rhade smiled. "We were trapped in there for more than three days. And I could hardly fail to notice the fact that she wasn't dead. It was an… interesting conversation."

Dylan leaned back in his seat. "Let's hear it."

It felt like a betrayal of trust, but he needed to come clean. "She was born on Earth, as her personnel record stated, but the location and date were wrong. Her original birthplace was in what was known as the United States, the state of Texas… Earth year 1989."

Dylan's mouth fell open in shock. Andromeda spoke up. "That is not possible. That would mean she was born nearly two thousand years before Earth joined the Systems Commonwealth."

"It was not something she enjoyed. In her own words, 'immortality leaves a lot to be desired'." She had been almost bitter about it. "Her original name was Claire Bennett. She was adopted by a couple that loved her like their own. It wasn't until her mid-teens that she started to notice something was wrong."

Hunt finally found his voice. "Such as?"

"She healed too quickly. She never bruised. Never got ill. Cuts mended in seconds and factures healed just as quickly. She told me that once she had attended a party with other people her age and a boy tried to force himself on her. There was an accident. Later she woke up in a morgue, her chest cavity cut open. Apparently a branch had become lodged in her head, effectively killing her. When the medical examiner removed the object, her body… repaired itself."

Dylan and Andromeda both seemed torn between horror and incredulity. Rhade continued, finding an odd… serenity at divulging this secret at last. He looked out the window into the starry void as he continued. "The cellular regeneration continued to grow more and more efficient, until her aging began to slow and eventually stopped altogether. She was frozen in time; youthful and strong, and unable to die.

"During our… isolation together she admitted that she had been married nine times, but stopped taking husbands when she realized that the pain of becoming a widow never grew less sharp no matter how often it happened. She had settled for… running whenever she began to feel too emotionally attached to her lovers, feeling that they deserved the chance to find someone who could live their lives with them. She also had born forty-three children, only two of which inherited her trait of longevity. She said that the pain of outliving and burying your own children was even greater than that of losing your spouse, so she had turned her back on that as well."

Gaheris' eyes focused on a random star. "She was… lonely. She and her two living sons rarely crossed paths, though they kept in touch as much as was able. She was also prone to boredom." He found himself smiling. "Her time aboard the Andromeda was not her first time in the High Guard. She had served more than once, signing up under different names every one hundred and fifty to two hundred years. She had been an engineer, a medical officer, even a janitor once." He turned his face back to Dylan. "I checked that part out upon my return to the ship. She told me the names of her past aliases. It took some time to access all the archives, but I found no fewer than five prior incarnations."

Dylan ran his fingers through his hair. "My God… all that she would have known. All that she would have seen." He shook his head. "Why all the subterfuge? Why didn't she just tell us who and what she was?"

"To what end?" Rhade took a step towards the desk. "Her view was that she would not become what she called a 'lab rat' again. Apparently people had discovered her abilities more than once in the past and she did not appreciate being strapped to a table and dissected while they attempted to find out how she did what she did. She had no intentions of going back to that, which was a very real possibility had she returned to the Andromeda. You would not have wanted to do it, Dylan, but the Commonwealth would have insisted." He gave a half-smile. "She was interested in her own survival."

The logic could not be argued against. Rhade was right, as Benoit had been. Hunt stood up, picking up a decorative sphere from his desk, rolling it between his palms. "How does this equate to you surviving a force blast to the mid-section? Did she… do something to you?"

"There was a cave in while we were trapped. I was… severely wounded. Mortally wounded, and all we had was half of a bare med kit. The nanobots we had with us would not have been enough to save me. She… emptied the nanobots from their injection cylinder and replaced them with a portion of her own blood." He remembered her movements through a haze of his own blood. Deliberate. Determined. "It… contaminates my own genetic code, to a point, but it did save my life."

"And made you immortal."

"I don't think so. Neither did she. I don't have enough of her cells in me to give me her level of protection, but clearly I am harder wearing."

"Much harder." Dylan shook his head. "It's… unbelievable."

"And yet it is so." Thankfully. "I owed her my life."

Hunt was nothing if not intelligent. "So you covered her desertion."

"Too many witnessed the explosion, and were she to show up with two good arms when one might have been discovered… she had to leave." Gaheris gave his captain an inquiring look. "Am I to be brought up on charges?"

Dylan shot him a look. "Of all that you are guilty of, helping a woman escape unjust imprisonment and forced experimentation is very low on the list." There was that. "However, something else does cross my mind."

"And that is?"

"The very real possibility that Lieutenant Benoit, or whatever she's calling herself these days, may still be out there. Somewhere there could very well be a former High Guard Officer, one who has seen the past three hundred years first hand and likely holds a wealth of information we could use." Hunt's face became contemplative. "Do you think she'd join us?"

Rhade frowned. "It's possible, if we could even find her. She served multiple times with the High Guard and was, in all of those times, an exemplary officer with an impeccable record. All indications are that she was loyal."

"Any ideas on how to find her?"

"Not at the moment, but she did say something about recycling names. She always tried to keep her initials the same, but that would be in the written language she learned during her first life."

Andromeda's hologram took on a contemplative expression. "I could look into that. I have extensive records on the cultures belonging to the various races that made up the Commonwealth. If I could have information on her past personas."

Rhade nodded. "Easily done. My research into her background should still be under my personal files in the mainframe. Help yourself."

* * *

The first breath was always painful, even for someone who felt very little else in the way of real pain. It burned like white fire, expanding in the lungs until you thought they would burst.

This was why she hated 'dying'.

"Hello, Mother."

Claire opened her eyes and looked up into the smirking face of her eldest son. "Do you know how humiliating it is to have to be 'rescued' by your children? I used to change your diapers, you know."

"It's been a long time since any of us have been in diapers."

She sat up slowly, not because of discomfort but because several parts of her were still recovering from the cold vacuum of space. "But not so long I can't still put you over my knee."

"I'd dearly love to see you try and put Charlemagne over your knee." He held out a warm robe as she stripped off the damaged clothing she was wearing. "He's got several advantages over you that I don't believe your venerable wisdom would balance out."

"Charlie is the most well behaved and obedient one out of the three of you." She accepted the robe, wrapping it around and tying it snuggly. "And what's with the pull out? Don't you three have lives of your own? What are you doing obsessing over what I'm doing? I'm the parent. I'm supposed to obsess over you. Speaking of which, are you eating properly? You look a little skinny." And he did. His ebony skin was a bit too tight over his high cheekbones.

Erik grinned and leaned down to kiss her on the forehead. "I've missed you as well, Mother. And as for the 'pull out', something came to my attention that I thought you might be interested in." He pulled out a flexi and offered it to her. "My sources brought a curious matter to light. It seems a Nightsider is attempting to salvage a Commonwealth Ship of the Line. There are dozens of leads on multiples vessels. Apparently he's decided on a target."

Claire's breath caught for the barest moment. "The Andromeda Ascendant."

"Sources say she's been trapped on the event horizon of a black hole for the past three hundred years. She's believed to be perfectly preserved, with the exception of some battle damage."

"Tell me you're joking."

"I'm afraid not."

"Damn." She turned and started towards the helm of Erik's cargo vessel. "Can we get there before the salvage crew?"

"Possibly. What do you want to do if they beat us?"

"Take her back." Claire took a seat at the weapons station, knowing better than to take Erik's pilot's seat. "How could I have been so stupid?"

Erik sat down and buckled in. "How do you mean?"

"I knew there were High Guard ships out there. Derelicts floating in space. Why didn't I track them down? Why did I just leave them out there?"

"You think it is your responsibility to play intergalactic janitor?"

Claire gave a soft growl. "I think that since the fall of the Commonwealth known space has come to ruled by a bunch of spoiled, petulant children, none of whom have the intelligence or wisdom to be entrusted with a toy as shiny as a High Guard ship of the Line." She shook her head at her own foolishness. "You did more than your fair share of stints in the High Guard. Surely you recall what something like this was capable of."

"I do. And I agree. It would be like giving the trigger to a Nova Bomb to a three year old."

"That's exactly what it would be like." She looked over to give her very grown child a fond smile. "When did you get so wise?"

"Well… they do say with age comes wisdom." He didn't turn to face her, but she could see his smile in the reflection of the screen before him. "Should we get Charlemagne?"

"No, too soon. Besides, he likely put an insane amount of work into falsifying his credentials to even get a spot on a Dragan ship, let alone Cuchulain's. It'd be a shame to wreck that now. Might come in useful, later. Do we have a current location for Joseph?"

"Not on our way and he's too far to rendezvous with us in time to intercept the salvage crew."

"Just you and I, then."

Erik gave a laugh. "Just like old times." Now he looked over his shoulder. "Off to save the universe, then?"

"Might as well." Claire set the flexi aside and leaned back in her chair. "I don't see anyone else clamoring for the job. Do you?"


	2. Chapter 2

"You're asking them to join us?"

"In case it's escaped your notice, Rhade, we don't have a crew. Not to mention we're in a time and place where we know next to nothing about the current climate, politically, socially or otherwise. We need them."

"Valentine and her crew, of course. Tyr, however, could be more trouble than he is worth."

Then I will leave it to you to keep him in line. Show him who's alpha around here."

"We are both alphas, but in this case it is you who should present the strongest face. You are the captain."

"And I will show it by having my Nietzschean first officer back me in all things." In short, Dylan planned to show his superiority by pretending that he had not been betrayed by the same first officer.

"As you wish." Rhade clasped his hands behind his back. "How do you wish to proceed?"

"We need to get a better understanding of what, exactly, we're facing out there. Just how far civilization has fallen and if there are any pockets of sanity to be found." Hunt braced his hands atop his desk. "Can I trust you, Rhade?"

Gaheris met his gaze dead on. "You can trust me, Dylan. My lapse in judgment is over. I stand ready to support you."

Their eyes remained locked in silence for a long time before Dylan finally nodded. "Dismissed."

There was such finality to that dismissal, a feeling that Rhade was once again fresh out of the academy. Though it was deserved, it still stung. He wisely refrained from commenting on it, settling instead for giving a respectful salute before leaving the captain's quarters.

* * *

"That… doesn't look like a black hole." Erik frowned as he tried to make sense of the scene before them. "And I can't get any closer. It seems to be pushing everything away."

"White hole, then." Claire studied the readings scrolling before her. "And not naturally occurring. Take a look at this and tell me if it looks familiar." She sent the data to Erik's console. His brow furrowed as he saw the same thing she had.

"Someone launched a nova bomb. I didn't know nova bombs could do something like this."

"Neither did I, but from the traces, I'd say they used more than one. A Glorious Heritage class warship could hold forty or more of the little buggers."

"Any chance they used all of them?"

"Can't tell from this. The white hole is constantly pushing matter away from itself. The concentrations are already thinned out." She read the scans further. "Which also means that it is very possible that if the Andromeda were destroyed, the debris might already be gone. Thought I have my suspicions."

"Enlighten me, Oh Loving Mother."

"Well, if our would be salvagers had found the ship but somehow got caught in the black hole's gravitational field, they would have been pretty desperate to escape. I don't know how they would have put two and two together to get nova bombs plus black hole equals white hole, but it would have meant a chance at surviving."

"Kind of like chewing off your own arm to escape a bear trap. Maybe we lucked out and they used all the nova bombs she had on her."

"Wouldn't that be convenient? One less sharp object with which the toddlers could hurt themselves." Erik laughed as she took a few more readings. "I'm detecting two different engine trails. They're faint, much of its been 'blown' away, but they're there. One looks like what you'd expect from the Andromeda."

"Bread crumbs. Good. Any plans on how to get the ship back once we catch up with her?"

"Not yet. We need to see who we're dealing with, first."

"Andromeda has nearly completed her download of the Maru's archives."

Dylan gave a small nod. "Good. The updated star charts and historical records will be of great help. And how is the Maru's crew settling in?"

"They are undisciplined by military standards, but that is only to be expected. They've had to fight and struggle to survive this long in the present climate. They're intelligent and capable, but right now they're more like feral cats; it will take time before they trust us enough that we can trust them."

The analogy brought a brief smile to Hunt's face. "And the Nietzschean?"

"Tyr." Gaheris gave a sigh. "He will need watching. He's clearly Alpha material, but his entire pride has been wiped out. He's an orphan who must prove himself if he is to attract a mate and thus gain a new family. He will turn on us if it will prove his superiority, but he will work with us as long as we are beneficial to his survival and can be instrumental in proving himself."

"Just to find a wife."

"Everything is about reproduction. Especially to a Nietzschean." It certainly was to him. Everything he had done was to ensure the survival of his family. His wives. His children.

How had he been so blind?

"Anything else to report, Rhade?"

"Not at the moment, but I have been considering our future endeavors. We still have damage from the battle before we were caught in the event horizon that needs to be repaired. Mr. Harper has already started working on it, but there is still the problem of not having a ready supply chain. We will need to find resources to replace ordnance, metal to repair damage to the hull, parts to keep the engines in good working order… we are at a severe disadvantage."

"Pessimism getting to you again?"

"Not at all. I'm just being a realist. And no matter how alone we are, we still have the benefit of possessing what is likely the most powerful ship in the known universe. That does increase our odds somewhat."

"That would help, of course." Rhade had known Dylan long enough to recognize the flicker of wariness deep in his eyes. The human captain was well aware of just how dangerous their situation was.

"Anything else, Sir?"

"No, that will be all, Rhade. You're dismissed."

* * *

"I'd forgotten how beautiful they were."

"I hadn't." Claire gazed out the forward window, her eyes moving over the sleek lines of the Andromeda. "Andromeda Ascendant. Heritage Class vessel. The pride of the High Guard. Oh, how I've missed you."

"You always did have a fondness for starships."

Claire's eyes moved to her son's profile. "And why not? The development of interstellar travel was a Godsend to us. You know how tricky it was to come up with new identities every handful of decades before we had the ability to leave Earth. Once there were colonies on other planets, dying and starting over was a simple as just moving to another solar system. Starships gave us freedom." Her lips curved into a smile. "Besides, I love fooling around with the engines. It's the best place to feel the torque. Even better than the old land-based automobiles."

"So you've always driven faster than sensible."

The teasing made her grin. "I used to adore a stick-shift. Too bad they all but fazed them out. Pontiac had the G6, which came in a six speed. Driving it was better than sex."

Erik gave a chuckle. "Clearly you were doing it wrong."

"Muzzle it." That only made him laugh harder. She had truly missed running missions with Erik. The ages had never dulled his warmth or his sense of humor, no matter how much pain he had been forced to live through. "They see us. We're being hailed."

"Well, might as well meet the new bullies on the block. Cover story?"

"If they figured out how to work her scanners then they're not going to fall for the old 'broken engine' ploy. Tell them we have a coupling going out on the intake line. That's something that has to be confirmed by sight." She gave a shrug. "Who knows? It might get us on board."

Erik growled. "So they can try to steal my ship as well."

"We would never let that happen. Answer the hail."

"Yes, Mother." He connected the link and an image lit up the small console to his right. "This is Captain Erik Bennett of the Eternal Vigilance." Erik always did have fun naming things. The responding voice, however, made Claire's breath catch in her throat.

"This is Captain Dylan Hunt of the Andromeda Ascendant. Is there something we can do for you, Captain Bennett?"

Claire punched in a command at her console just as Erik began to respond. A burst of simulated interference started to disrupt transmission so that she could speak with little fear of being overheard. "That's not possible." She replayed the first few seconds of the conversation on a second screen at her station. Captain Hunt's chiseled features filled the tiny space.

"Something wrong?"

"Dylan Hunt was the captain of the Andromeda when I served on her."

Erik frowned. "Someone going by his name?"

"If so, they've stolen his face, too. That looks exactly like him."

"It's been three hundred years. You think he's like us?"

Claire frowned. "Highly unlikely, but not entirely outside of the realm of possibility." She swallowed. "I'm going to try and send out a second text-only message directly to the ship's AI." Her fingers started to fly over the board even as she spoke. "You see what you can do to get us on that ship."

Erik nodded and stopped the psuedo-disruption. "Captain Hunt… are you still there?"

"There you are. It looks like you're having some trouble with your com system."

"For starters." The centuries had made Erik very good at acting. "But I'm more concerned about an intake coupling that keeps giving us grief. Looks like you have a big ship there, Captain. Any chance we could hitch a ride while we sort things out?"

"I think arrangements can be made. Dock your ship inside landing bay four. You and your crew are welcome. Hunt out."

* * *

"You are inviting a complete stranger aboard your ship?" Tyr seemed unsettled by the idea. "One who might have any number of hidden weapons or secret agendas. In case you have failed to understand us, Captain Hunt, the universe is not the friendly place you remember."

"That will be all, Anasazi." Gaheris kept his voice firm. Dylan gave an amused look between them.

"You have a point, Tyr. Perhaps you should accompany Rhade to the landing bay to welcome our guests." A chime sounded from the console where he was standing as he spoke. Accessing the screen brought to his attention was second nature to him. Tyr and Rhade were headed towards the door when he spoke again. "On second thought, stay on the bridge Mr. Anasazi. I'll handle this one personally. Gaheris, if you would join me."

Rhade kept his frown to a minimum. Usual procedure was for either the captain or the first officer to remain on the bridge in a situation such as this. Both rarely went to meet a guest outside of heads of state or high-ranking individuals. Still, he did not ask until they were outside of the bridge and out of earshot. "Captain?"

"Andromeda received a text-only transmission while I was talking to our Captain Bennett, one sent by the second life form detected on his ship. The sender was using High Guard ident codes."

Gaheris blinked. "High Guard codes?" Andromeda's voice chimed in.

"More specifically, the ident codes belonging to Lieutenant Clarice Benoit. They were deactivated upon her reported death, of course, but I still had record of them in my database. She wanted to know if I was being held under duress and asked for confirmation of Captain Hunt's identity."

Dylan matched step with Rhade as they walked along the corridor. "Which is why I decided to come with you instead of sending our very large Nietzschean friend. Besides, we're the only ones who know about… Benoit, and we should clear it with her before we let her special talents become common knowledge. She's a potential ally. We should try to keep on her good side."

"Agreed."

They made their way to the landing bay, entering after Andromeda confirmed that everything was clear. Up close the Eternal Vigilance appeared to be in far better repair than the Eureka Maru. The hull was a matte black so as to blend in with the darkness of space and there were no flaws detectable by the naked eye in her form. Whoever Captain Bennett was, he was clearly better off financially than Beka Valentine.

A door on the side of the hull began to lower into a ramp, coming to rest on the landing bay floor with a metallic thud. Only a moment later a tall, lean figure exited the ship. He stood a good six feet and five inches in height, and although his figure appeared to be well toned, his musculature was the wiry type of build that hid its true strength from those who did not know what to look for. Ebony black skin and shortly cropped, black hair contrasted sharply with the bright white of his smile as he extended a hand in greeting to Dylan. "Captain Hunt, thank you for extending the hospitality of your ship."

"The pleasure is all mine, Captain Bennett."

"Please, call me Erik. I insist."

The man's warmth seemed honest and was hard for a human like Dylan to withstand. Hunt smiled back. "Then I must insist you call me Dylan." They released hands. "This is my first officer, Commander Gaheris Rhade."

Rhade noted the barest flicker of recognition in Erik's eyes before he extended a hand in greeting to him. "An honor to meet you, Commander."

"Well, this certainly makes things more interesting." The voice came from on the ship. All eyes turned as Benoit stepped out onto the ramp. Rhade had known she was ageless, of course, but he still had could not help but be surprised at the sight of her.

She was still beautiful. The shape of her face started out round, but curved into more of an oval as it reached her chin, a combination of two classic structures. Light colored, almond shaped eyes and a cupid's bow of a mouth. Her hair was blonde, as it had been the day she had been declared dead. Gaheris had not been blind to the physical beauty of the female members of the crew, he had kept his hands to himself in part because they were not Nietzschean and in part because regulations prohibited fraternization, but he could admit that Clarice Benoit had been one of the more attractive females on Andromeda. More than one male crewmember had been saddened at her death, though there had never been so much as a whisper that she had been involved with anyone.

The perfectly balanced mouth turned up in a smile. "You two look as though you've seen a ghost." Her hands came to rest on her hips and her cocky stance was anything but military. "Last I checked I wasn't transparent."

Erik gave a chuckle. "Mother, be nice."

That snapped Gaheris out of it. "Of course; Claire Bennett and Erik Bennett. Makes sense." He looked back to the tall man. "You're one of her sons."

"I do have that pleasure." Bennett looked back to Hunt. "We heard that there was a salvage operation launched to fetch the Andromeda and thought it might be wise to try and keep her out of the wrong hands."

"We certainly didn't expect to find the original owner still had her." Claire came to a stop a couple of feet from Dylan. "It's good to see you, Captain."

"Thank you. It's… good to see a friendly face."

"I'm afraid you won't see many friendly faces out here. Not these days. Not since the fall." There was sadness in her voice, but just as quickly she banished it to frown. "I'd forgotten how tall you were. You're making me feel short."

Hunt gave a chuckle. "Sorry."

"You can't help it." She turned her attention to Gaheris. "And since our good Captain Hunt isn't completely in shock, I'm going to guess you had to spill the beans."

"My apologies, but there were events that required an explanation."

"Badly injured or dead?"

Rhade would have found the question odd from anyone else. "Apparently dead."

She winced. "Sorry about that."

"No apology necessary. Nietzscheans are geared towards survival. I am hardly likely to complain about not being dead."

Dylan cleared his throat. "As good as it is to see you, how is it that you found us? We were actually wondering how to find you."

"Like we said, we heard someone was coming after the Andromeda and thought to stop them. Or at least take the ship back." She gave a sigh and a double-shouldered shrug. "Very few people in the known universe these days could be trusted with a ship like this one. Too much power to be in the hands of idiots. And, believe me, the universe has no shortage of idiots."

Rhade gave a nod. "It never did." He glanced over at Dylan who seemed unable to disagree as well.

"I don't suppose you would be willing to consider staying on board the Andromeda and lending us a hand."

Claire tilted her head to one side. "In staying alive? Sure, I can do that. As it so happens, I recently had to ditch my last identity and need to start again. I hadn't even really thought about what name to use. I might just go back to being Claire Bennett, but if it will help you remember what to call me, I have no problems being Clarice again."

"The choice is completely yours, of course, but I was thinking something more than just staying alive. We intend to rebuild the Systems Commonwealth."

Both of the Bennetts blinked in surprise, exchanging a look between themselves before Claire spoke again. "You're… going to restore the Systems Commonwealth? By yourself?"

"Well, I would hope that you would be willing to lend a hand. You've watched the degradation of known space since the fall. You would have a better idea of which planets would be the most likely to join up first."

"I… think you're going to find that a hard pill to get most to swallow. I mean, although there are plenty of worlds who would like the whole 'safety in numbers' thing, you've also got a lot of bitter, angry people. They've been forced to do for themselves for so long that few are going to be willing to trust enough to put their faith into a centralized system of government."

Gaheris suspected that she was right, but this was Dylan's show. Hunt clearly considered her words, but he was nothing if not an optimist. "That is why we need you, Claire. That's why I need you."

Bennett studied Dylan in silence for an extended moment before turning her gaze towards her son. She and Erik seemed to communicate silently before he shrugged. "It's your call. I have no pressing engagements. I'll stand by you no matter what you decided, just as I always have."

She gave a smile. "Scratch what I said about Charlie being the better behaved one. You just moved back up to the top spot." He laughed as she turned her attention back to Dylan and extended a hand. "Clarice Benoit, planet Earth. It's a pleasure to meet you, Captain. I stand ready to assist you in any way possible in regards to your current insanity."

Dylan accepted the hand. "We're not going to use 'Claire'?"

"You can call me 'Claire' for short, but I can't be a 'Bennett'. Erik's already introduced himself by that name, and we don't really look that much alike." She leaned in a bit conspiratorially. "He took after his father."


	3. Chapter 3

Harper swallowed his mouthful of soda. "What's your problem, Tyr? Dylan took us on and we tried to steal his ship. All Bennett did was ask to hitch a ride."

"If he is going to try to build his crew from whatever strays he finds along the way, then we are destined for chaos."

"Tyr's got a point, Harper, but that's not what bothers me." Beka gave a glance around the gathering of her crew (and Tyr) before continuing. "Dylan may have asked the rest of us to join him on the Andromeda, but it wasn't an automatic acceptance. He was still suspicious, and Rhade was very suspicious. But it's not like that with those two. Especially her. I mean, have you _seen_ them around her? I know she's cute, but I don't think that's it."

"It's more like familiarity," supplied Rev Bem. "With Claire they behave as though they already knew her. Andromeda as well. With Bennett they are merely comfortable."

"Exactly my point. And even Bennett acts off around her. I mean, he's suppose to be _her_ boss, but has anyone else noticed how he seems to defer to her?"

"I'd like to defer to her. I'd like to defer to whatever she wants. Ow!" Harper rubbed his head where Trance had hit him, edging away from her at the same time. "And anyways, it's good to have a pair of hands that actually knows what they're doing in engineering. She's almost as good as me. I'm still better, of course."

Tyr ignored Harper to respond to Beka. "Bennett's behavior isn't just familiar; it's familial. He behaves as a Nietzschean would towards a matriarch or high-ranking female in his pride. One he wouldn't take as a mate, but one he respects and honors."

Seamus frowned. "So you think they're like… related or something?"

"Perhaps. If not by blood, then at least raised together."

Trance gave a shrug. "Then why wouldn't they just say so? Being family is nothing to be ashamed of. Why are they being so secretive?"

Beka and Tyr locked eyes for a moment, as if trying to communicate telepathically before Beka said something. "Who knows, Trance, but I don't like it. Something about those two just sets my teeth on edge."

~***~

"So how are you liking the new body?"

Rommie waited until Claire caught up with her before walking along with her. "I am adjusting. I have had a body for several months now." They paused at footsteps came their way. Rhade appeared around the corner to join them. Rommie greeted him with a cold incline of the head before continuing her conversation. "And I still wonder about Harper's motivations in designing this body."

Claire couldn't help but notice the less than friendly reception. Was Andromeda feeling prejudice against the Nietzscheans? A lot of people did, and it was well earned, but why against Rhade? "Is Dylan planning to let you off-ship to interact with the masses some time?"

"It is likely. Why?"

"Then take a friendly word of advice: use contractions."

Rommie frown. "I do not understand."

"'I'm' instead of 'I am'. 'I've' instead of 'I have'. Nearly all people have a bit of laziness in them. They use contractions and slang. Perfect grammar and flawless articulation will make you stand out. Few outside of the super wealthy and politically powerful speak the way you do. How you speak can determine if you get shot or get the deal in some places."

Gaheris gave her a speculative look. "You sound as though you're speaking from experience."

"I am. Accents and inflections are most often native. Erik, Joey and I often just claim to be from Earth because it's the easiest to stick do being how all three of us are. And each of us became familiar enough with a few other worlds and their customs that we could fake it if we needed to, although we had to watch ourselves after The Fall because the dynamics of so many systems and social structures when through radical changes. But regular joes are almost always regular joes. Learn to pass yourself off as 'average' and you slip right under the radar."

"She does have a point, Rommie. Valentine and Harper would be good subjects to study. I get the feeling that they have more than their fair share of experience dealing with the underbelly of society."

"Whereas I have always been the embodiment of virtue." She delivered it with her best poker face, but only an idiot would have believed her. "I would follow Valentine's example more than Harper's. The kid's tough, but a bit on the grating side."

Rhade gave a chuff of a laugh before frowning. "Who's 'Joey'?"

"My other son. It's short for Joseph."

His frown deepened. "I thought your sons were Erik and Charlie."

The door to the officers' mess opened. The party paused just long enough to ensure that no one else was present before Claire responded. "Yeah, I had a bit of a run-in about seventy years after the fall. Decided to spend a life as a free-lance cargo runner. Mostly ran supplies and food to worlds hardest hit by the war. There were a few charitable organizations still standing that did that kind of thing. Not a lot of profit in it, but I was mainly in it to keep busy."

Rhade and Claire both got something to eat before sitting down. "Anyway, I needed an extra hand as Erik and Joey were both off doing their own thing. Came across a member of the Kenja Pride. Rough group of people who had a reputation for attacking just about anything that crossed their paths and very little tolerance for weakness. His name was Bolivar, and he had lost his dominant arm in a battle with the Sabrans, thus destroying his standing with his own pride. He was out to prove his genetic worth but was stuck having to do it outside of the pride." She gave a shrug. "But, he was clever, a brilliant tactician and even a one-armed Nietzschean is intimidating enough to keep the shop keeps honest.

"Anyway, there was a run in with some scavengers who tried to steal a shipment we were dropping off, and I had a bit of a problem. A metal pipe ended up going through my mid-section. Bolivar found me just in time to see me pull it out and heal up. My cover was blown and I had to come clean about the whole 'indestructible' thing. He was shocked, of course, but he appeared to get over it.

"So, time goes on. Eventually one guy and one girl all alone on a small freighter in the dark of space unfolds as nature and biology demands. I didn't really plan for it to happen, but as I was on the second strongest birth control in known space I felt pretty secure. It only lasted for a couple of months before we got into an altercation with pirates and I lost Bolivar. It was another couple of weeks after his death that I realized I was pregnant. A closer investigation revealed that the bastard had sabotaged my birth control. I might as well have been shooting pure saline."

Rommie's head tilted to one side. "He meant for you to conceive."

Rhade gave a nod. "Of course he did. Nietzscheans are driven to survive. We do so through our children and their children. A Nietzschean who is virtually indestructible and possible immortal would be the pinnacle of survival. And since you speak of him as though he's still alive after more than two centuries, I'm going to assume he did inherit that particular aspect of the family genetics."

Claire nodded. "He did. Bolivar didn't live long enough to see his plans work out to his benefit, but the one who has to pay the highest price for his deception is his son." Gaheris looked confused. Claire gave him a sad smile. "I told you once that I stopped having children because it hurt too much to bury them. How much harder would that be for you?" Comprehension dawned in Rhade's eyes and Claire nodded again. "Charlie learned that faster than any of us. He only did the husband and father thing once before he realized it was a living hell for him. Whenever he has to forge a new identity, which is extremely hard to do for Nietzschean society, he claims to be sterile. He says it's because they don't check your background closely if you aren't likely to father any children, but I think it's more likely because it deters the females from considering him as a husband. Keeps him out of temptation's way."

Gaheris was about to comment when the door opened to allow Tyr entry. The two men locked gazes for a moment in a brief, silent battle for dominance. Tyr looked away first, likely more to keep the peace than true submission, and moved on to get his meal. His appearance effectively stopped the thread of the conversation and they moved on to discussions about possible drifts and planets from which they might obtain supplies.


End file.
